


Sticks and Stones

by keelywolfe



Series: Spicyhoney Standalones [19]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nursery Rhyme References, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus/Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:21:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24057415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Edge isn't sure what to call his relationship with Stretch. Not yet.
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), Spicyhoney
Series: Spicyhoney Standalones [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925041
Comments: 19
Kudos: 105
Collections: Nursery Rhyme Community Project





	Sticks and Stones

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [The Nursery Rhyme Project!](https://sheewolf85.tumblr.com/post/617241831543062528)
> 
> The rules state that it has to have a nursery rhyme for a title and has to be about an injury/illness, either real or metaphorical. This is on the metaphorical side, I hope it's what they were looking for! 😊

* * *

Edge wasn’t sure what to call it, his relationship with Stretch. 

It wasn’t precisely dating, not as it was shown in his dating rulebook back in Underfell. They’d skipped most of the steps, started with arguing rather than flirting and somehow, they’d tripped and stumbled their way into whatever this was that allowed them to offer insults to each other at the same time they gingerly held hands and stole kisses whenever they were alone.

He didn’t know what to call it, that was true. But whatever it was, Edge certainly liked it.

Tonight was their regularly schedule movie night, this time in Underswap. Stretch was usually in the thick of things, exchanging moronic puns with Sans and Red, making ridiculous jokes as each of them tossed popcorn at each other. 

It was annoying, yes, but somehow on their journey to become…whatever they were…it changed and twisted into nearly endearing. That never stopped Edge from slapping all of them on the back of the skull and ordering those who were, in age, the older brothers and who were, in reality, the least mature, to clean up. But he was gentler when he did it. 

But today, Stretch seemed distant, sitting curled up in a corner of one of the sofas, his normal humor muted, and Edge wasn’t sure why. A mental review of the night led him back to when Blue came out of the kitchen with the popcorn and called out, “Papy, come help me with this!”

Before Stretch could reply, Papyrus leapt to his feet with a cheerful, “Coming!” and that was that. 

Was he upset that Papyrus helped when Blue asked for him? That seemed likely, but the real question was why. Stretch was far more likely to playfully whine and come up with increasingly ridiculous excuses as to why he couldn’t help— he was too sore from Quidditch practice was a recent one—than to actually provide any real assistance. Perhaps he was upset that Papyrus ruined his joke? But that never stopped him before, he would simply hold up one croc-encased foot and claim he would have helped, but he had a flat.

Whatever the issue, he seemed determined to marinate in it. Sitting quietly rather than tossing out opinions of the movie, his popcorn sitting untouched. Halfway through, he finally stood and went outside without a word, cigarettes in hand. 

Blue was no fool, he’d obviously noticed his brother’s mood and started to stand, his starry eye lights shading to pale, worried globes. Edge waved him back, signing, _I’ll check on him._

Blue nodded, sinking back next to Papyrus, but that worried gaze followed Edge out the door. 

He didn’t need to go far. Stretch was sitting on the front steps, a lit cigarette dangling between two fingers. He glanced at Edge and didn’t say anything, only took a long drag from his cigarette.

“Stretch?” Edge asked, cautiously. He sat down on the stair next to him, wincing at the chill seeping through his trousers. These days he left his uniform at home, dressing more casually in the safety of Underswap. Perhaps Blue would have handled things different, coaxed and cajoled a response, but Edge wasn’t one to dither. He preferred to be direct, even if the answer wasn’t. “Are you all right?”

Stretch puffed out a perfect smoke ring, exhaling the rest of his breath in a cloud as he said, “you can call me that all you want, but it’s not my name, is it.” He slanted Edge a look, his eye lights narrow and distinct. “my name is papyrus and your name is papyrus, and they can dress it up any way they like, but what happens is you and i are the extras.” He stood up and twirled, the tip of his cigarette zigging through the darkness and his slippers going dark and soggy in the snow as he bowed mockingly. “we’re the red headed stepchildren, the clones, the fucking spares. whatever you want to call it, but it all boils down to not the real papyrus. he’s the ‘real papyrus’.” Stretch hooked his fingers into air quotes. “he gets dibs on papyrus and paps and now even papy, isn’t that great.”

He sagged back down on the stairs, fumbling for another cigarette and Edge watched as he lit it, chasing the flame as the lighter trembled in his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Edge said at last. “I wish I knew what to say. I suppose it doesn’t bother me the way it bothers you.” Perhaps it should have bother him more, but it didn’t. In Underfell, he was the Great and Terrible Papyrus, and here he was Edge, here he was a friend and a rival, depending on the day, an antagonist and a companion, perhaps even a lover, someday. It was better for him, in some ways, to not be called Papyrus while he was sitting on a sofa in Underswap or helping chop tomatoes in Undertale, a line of demarcation that allowed him to be…well. Someone else. 

To his surprise, and pleasure, Stretch shifted to rest his skull on Edge’s shoulder, his hand seeking Edge’s, curving their fingers together as he sighed out, “thing is, it shouldn’t bother me. it’s stupid, i know it’s stupid. but every time i go to call my brother sans, every time someone says papyrus and i start to reply, it’s like getting slapped in the face and i feel sick in my soul.” He laughed, a little, shaking his head and his skull scraped lightly against Edge’s shirt, “when my bro was a kid, sometimes he’d get picked on a little. nothing bad, but once he came home crying and i taught him that ol’ saying: ‘sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me.’”

Red’s version had been more along the lines of ‘and my bones will break yours,’ but Edge understood the sentiment.

“guess i was wrong, names can hurt, even when you’re all grown up.” Stretch leaned away and doused his cigarette in the snow, tossing the butt into an already overflowing ashtray. “sorry, you didn’t come out here to listen to me bitch.”

“Actually, I did,” Hesitantly, Edge slid an arm around Stretch’s shoulders and pulled him back in. He came immediately, leaning all his light weight against Edge, even snuggling in closer. “Or perhaps I was hoping to cheer you up.”

“Talking to you does make me cheerful,” Stretch sighed. 

Edge closed his sockets briefly against the tremor in his soul from those soft words, quietly absorbed in the feel of that slight body settled comfortably against his own. He dipped his head to murmur close to Stretch’s auditory canal, “If nursery rhymes don’t bring any comfort, perhaps this will? ‘What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet’.”

To his dismay, Stretch pulled away from him, staring at him with wide sockets. He laughed suddenly, his eye lights flaring brightly with humor, “wow, edgelord, that was actually…romantic. didn’t know you had it in you.”

A thousand defensive words rose in his head and none made their way to his mouth, because it was currently occupied by Stretch leaning in to kiss him sweetly. When Edge pulled him closer, deepening that soft touch of mouths, he came willingly, eagerly, sharing breathy laughter between them as he settled into Edge’s arms. 

Perhaps there wasn’t a word for what they were to each other, not in any language Edge knew, but that was all right. Named or not, it was theirs. They could figure out what to call it together. 

-finis-


End file.
